


trash

by WitchoftheMareBeast



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 17:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10701375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchoftheMareBeast/pseuds/WitchoftheMareBeast





	trash

She's only a distraction after Sammy had seen her run into his work space three times that week to flip on that dirty pump switch Joey installed in his office to periodically drain the ink that would leak out of the pipes and flood all of the stairways. Sammy had preferred to ignore her rather than pay her half a mind when she's around him, but it was those big, ugly wings and too bright of a halo that floated above her hair that began to be distracting.

  
He'd clutch his ink pen in one hand and clench his other one into a fist when he heard those fake, ink-made heels hit the distant wooden floorboard as she approached his office. It was light knocking at first, and though he tried to ignore it, he reluctantly called to let her in. She'd cut inside quietly with an apology and quickly followed up with that _she hated to bother him, but -_

  
Sammy just waved her on.

  
He's got these nasty ink pipes hanging above his head, a pump switch standing out and making his office look the most unprofessional it's ever looked, and now an ink cartoon was bothering him above everything else.

  
It needed to stop.

  
"Mari." He called out to her when Mari went to leave one time after she'd flipped the switch on. She seemed stunned that Sammy had done something more than grunt or wave the back of his hand at her. She approached him cautiously just as Sammy capped the bottle of ink he was using to write down the new piece of music for the band to play for the next cartoon.

  
"You're just the _sweetest thing_ , aren't you?" Sammy asked, though she didn't seem to pick up on his bitter sarcasm. "You're always flipping on the pump switch for everyone in here."

  
"Oh... I guess I am! I just thought it would be nice to offer."

  
_It's so nice of you._

  
"Do you like playing with Bendy?"

  
It's an abrupt question, and even Mari seemed to be confused by it. Slowly, she shook her head.

  
"Oh Bendy's real swell and all, but he likes to be a troublemaker. I'd like to play with him more often if he wasn't always up to somethin' bad."

  
Of course she didn't like Bendy. She's a _pure little angel_ sent from the creator above, only wanting the _best_ for people. The little angel that sat on your shoulder to tell you what was right from wrong. It almost made Sammy _cringe_ harder than he ever had before, only because Joey had created the spitting image of _little miss perfect never does anything wrong_.

  
"You should come play with me more often then." Sammy said, though he almost bit his tongue. "And together we can make music."

  
He hated himself for saying it out loud, only because Mari really seemed to like the idea of that.

  
It's how Sammy ended up with an angel by his side during the day. He had no idea why he put the offer out there, but the more time he spent with her, the more he resented her. She always looked as pure as she did in the cartoons, swinging her feet that dangled off of the chair he brought in and humming some tunes that Sammy wrote down for ideas. In the end, the only way she was helpful was to figure out what notes worked and what didn't. Otherwise, she was just as blatantly misplaced and hideous in his office just like the pump switch was. He'd prefer that thing in here than her any day.

  
But little miss Mari had come to love Sammy. _A lot_ as well. She came to consider him a great friend of hers in the studio. Great. Just the message Sammy wanted to put off. He catered to the behavior a lot of the time of being her friend, going as far as to sneak ink bottles for her to drink and even letting her get away with writing some of these stupid cartoon song pieces alone. And he had to admit, she wasn't half bad at making the music. She knew how to make a basic melody and put lyrics to it, which he had to go to college for four years to learn. God, how did he end up with this job? He hated it.  
  
  
And Mari had practically clung to his side. He regretted even making the offer back then. She was annoying, always butted in with a more kinder, easier solution than something Sammy had in mind, and he was getting sicker of it by the second.

  
Up until he was doomed and cursed with that inky, dark nightmare he called a body with a Bendy masked strapped to his face.

  
He didn't waste a moment. He wanted to please his god - the ink demon that was Bendy, who would free him from his body. What better ways to show his loyalty than to kill an angel?

  
She was just a little lost sheep, wandering the studio now, wondering where all her friends went. She'd just seen how Boris had been brought to his own fate when she reached the music department, her shoulders shivering. She was terrified. Given by the way her cheeks were wet, she'd been crying over her lost friends. 

  
"B...Bendy?" She called out nervously. "A-Alice? ...S-Someone?"

  
Sammy creaked open the door of the room he was in just slightly, enough that he could call out to her.

  
"In here."

  
She turned her head at the sound of his voice.

  
"Sammy? Oh Sammy, was that you?"

  
"Come here. It isn't safe out there."

  
And of course she would comply, only because Sammy had been a good guy, a great guy. A friend who had spent time with her.

  
Sammy shut the door behind her as soon as she was inside, and though she looked around for him, she stumbled back in fear the moment she noticed the tall, inky body Sammy had adapted to. The Bendy mask seemed to scare her most. Sammy liked the way she looked so afraid.

  
"...S...Sammy?"

  
"Rest your head. It's time for bed."

  
Sammy took a step toward her, his hands tightly grasping the rope he dragged out from Wally's supply closet. He licked his lips underneath the mask.

  
She couldn't say anything. She knew she was in trouble. She had darted for the door, and once she realized it was locked, she had tried bolting upward by spreading her wings. But a ceiling would only let her get so far away, and the second she was in the air, she came crashing down after slamming her head into the bulging ink pipes stuck into the ceiling. It was almost laughable about how ditsy she was. She really was just a pin-up girl for some stupid cartoon that _mocked_ Bendy.

  
And she was almost as bad as the cartoon itself when it came to disrespecting him.

  
Though she was dizzy, she tried to move toward somewhere safe, but Sammy stepped on her back with his inky shoes, ruining her pretty polka-dotted dress the moment he did. He didn't care.

  
He wrapped the rope around her neck and pulled as hard as he could.

  
She struggled, that was for sure, but when she went still, Sammy had never felt such satisfaction that he had little to no idea what to do with her body afterward. It was such a beautiful sight compared to before, seeing the little cartoonish x's where her eyes should have been. It was just like Boris. It was just like Alice.

  
He had saved the best for last.

  
Tying the rope around her neck, he tied her to the ink pipes from the ceiling, pushing her body up against the painted cloudy set he pulled out of storage.

  
Then he pushed the nails into her wings, pinning them to the wood.

  
He kind of wished she were alive to feel it. He would have loved seeing her reaction to that.

  
But he had work to do, and no time to play around. He had his fun, and the next step was to get himself out of this prison of a body. He couldn't help but feel proud of his handy work when he stepped back to look at her, so still and lifeless among the fake clouds, where she should have stayed all along. You should always put your trash in the garbage when you were done with it, after all.

  
For a reminder, he used his ink coated hand to paint the message clear:

  
_"Angels don't belong here"_

  
Maybe it was too far, but Sammy had things to do.

  
He couldn't stay like this forever, but to just be sure his Lord would never see the damage he had done, he'd made sure to close the door behind him and lock it shut with an aging rusty padlock. Who knew what the code was, but Sammy never wanted to go back in there.

  
The deed was finally done, after all.


End file.
